


Puppets

by Monsters_maid



Category: Bray Wyatt - Fandom, NXT, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment, firefly fun house, prowrestling, the fiend - Fandom, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 16:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsters_maid/pseuds/Monsters_maid
Summary: Takes place when Penny is under Bray Wyatt’s thrall. Sensing her distress, he gives her a gift.Note: I don’t own anything. I only write for the characters. I do not write for the real people/actors/atheletes.





	Puppets

He had caught her crying.  
Penny knew he hated it when he caught her crying. She hated it too, because he became more human after that for a short time. She didn’t know when he’d caught her. Wyatt had become such a part of her she never felt like she was truly alone. Even in a stadium of thousands of screaming people, holding up their phones like the fireflies Wyatt so affectionately called them, she felt alone.  
She hated when they weren’t traveling. She always hated when they were together, but when they traveled at least she had some distractions. Now, in their home, far in the dank wood and swamp, there was nothing but Bray, Erik, Luke, and Braun. She was never allowed to go anywhere without Bray or one of her “brothers”. There was another brother once, one she didn’t mind so much, but he’d somehow broken Wyatt’s spell. What she wouldn’t give to know how he did it.  
Her room was barren, like all the rest. Rough wooden walls and a gapped wooden floors that let up drafts and smell of musty earth. There was a vanity, with peeling paint and a cracked mirror. She was encouraged to keep up her appearance. Bray liked her soft and lady like. In the earlier days, she did, just to feel human. She missed the days in the Ministry when she was a Disciple. When she wore gowns of lace and velvet and perfumed her long hair. Penny liked to see her Master’s eyes brighten when she walked into a room and feel the approval echo between the walls of her mind. She never felt that anymore. She had months ago let all the bottles of perfume and face things go dry. The pretty lipsticks and eye things were abandoned in the drawers. If she used them, it was never by her own hand, but when Bray moved her strings like a puppet. She would have flashes of memories of the smell of powder or the reflection of her eyes wide as she coated her eyelashes in mascara. Penny never got to appreciate that handy work because she woke to most of it smeared and rubbed off her face the next morning...or a couple mornings later...or whenever Bray decided to relax his grip on her mind.

He had caught her crying at some point and time...or maybe one of the men had heard her and told. Maybe Bray felt it through the invisible chain she was tethered to him with. Now, he was at her door, knocking, asking for permission to come into her room when he knew damn well there was no lock. He could make her open it for him, but Penny wasn’t ready for a fight. The house drained her, Wyatt drained her, she was just happy to have her own wits for a while. That didn’t mean she didn’t make him knock and ask her twice. Her own small, minuscule revenge.  
“Lamb,” Wyatt’s voice carried easily into her room through the rough hewn door. “Come open the door,” He said a second time and the worm stirred in Penny’s temple. She knew he would not ask a third time. “I have something for you,”  
She threw her legs over the side of the squeaking mattress and crossed the equally squeaky boards. Penny took a breath before wrapping her hands around the door handle and opening it to reveal her captor.  
Wyatt easily stood a full head taller than her, hair falling messily around his face in cords. His teeth seemed while against his dark beard as he gave a smile, eyes the color of a dead sky glimmering at her obedience. “That’s a good girl,”  
Penny wanted to do a whole manner of things. She wanted to scream, she wanted to lunge at him, she wanted to cower and hide, but mostly she just wanted to get away. She wanted to put as much distance between her and Wyatt as she physically and mentally could. The surge of thoughts and emotions were daunting, stripping her of any power. She felt overwhelmed and small and helpless. It showed. She could feel her face betray her and her brows crease and her lips tilt precariously downwards. Wyatt saw it at once and his hands that had been hidden behind his back, suddenly came around her, pulling her closer to his body. A box he held was pressing against her back.  
“I knew you were upset, darling,” He murmured softly. His voice melodious and low like winding cobwebs. It wrapped around her and she was equally pulled to shove him away and give into the act of humanity and accept the comfort that was offered. Instead she did neither, staying stiff in his embrace. “I know...I know this isn’t easy...” He pressed a kiss to her temple, the worm fluttering and it was so tempting to give in. She was always tempted to give in and stop fighting and to not feel this struggle and pain anymore. However, that wasn’t who she was. “Come, let’s sit a moment...” Woodenly she turned and together they made the short stride to her bed. It bowed and groaned under their equal weight. Wyatt faced her, looking out of place in his garish Hawaiian shirt and relaxed, faded blue jeans in her stripped and barren room. “I know you’re accustomed to much...much more. You were practically royalty in the Undertaker’s hoard and this...this is a big transition for you,” She whimpered at the sound of her master’s name, the pain in caused in her heart and he shushed her gently. “ I know, I know, Lamb, but you have to believe me when I tell you that its for the best. You would rot and fester in the Deadman’s care. He didnt know how to unlock your power like I do,” He reached out, trailing a big hand down her cheek. “And I will when you let me in...when you fully give yourself to me, love, but I’m patient. I can wait. I know you’ll see it...” Wyatt sighed, dropping his hand, and looked down at the box in his lap. It was a worn, and weathered cardboard box. “But I know I caused you a lot of pain pulling you from your friends. You were used to so much more...things that I can’t yet provide for you. I’m just a humble man and I try...I try...” There was weight on his words that tugged on her and she couldn’t tell if the emotions were organic or produced by the pull he had on her. “I dont have the fancy things your last Master had, but I hate seeing you so alone and so sad, darling. I can’t always be by your side when there’s so much work to be done,”  
Then let me go...please just let me go. Penny begged inside her mind, unsure if he could hear her or not.  
“But...then I got an idea...and idea so that you’ll never be alone...” and with that, he scooted the box towards her, half on his knee and half on hers, “open it,”  
Penny’s eyes flickered from Wyatt to the box and then with nervous fingers pulled the flaps apart. Inside, sitting on a nest of shredded shipping paper, were three odd toys. The first one she picked up was a porcelain doll, who looked like she’d been abandoned. Her face was cracked and was missing an eye, her mouth was clearly supposed to move at some point, but sat broken and gaping. She was dressed in black silk and was the largest item in the box. The next was what Penny thought was a lump of dryer lint, but upon closer inspection was a mess of grey wool that was actually a hand puppet. There were eyes and a nose and a pair of plastic buckteeth hidden in the wild wool curls. Lastly was maybe the most eerie of the three, was a plastic vulture head. It was head and neck covered by a long piece of stocking. Another hand puppet she supposed...and then she realized what Wyatt had done. He had literally “made” her friends. These toys...these puppets...fuck...puppets like her...he’d made her friends like her...did he realize that? Was this a joke? A little ember flared to life inside of her and she nearly had the strength to shove the crude effigies back into Wyatt’s lap until she looked at his face. It was open and eager and he was clearly excited to hear what she thought. No...this wasn’t joke. He had truly done this for her and...as she looked back down at the ugly, half broken toys she couldn’t help but feel a kindred bond to them. “Well, darling?” He asked, almost breathless with anticipation.  
Penny ran her fingertips over the wooly texture of the grey hand puppet and offered a bland, limp smile, “They’re...very nice. I like them...thank you,” The words were stiff. She hated giving him any praise but she also knew what he expected from her. Wyatt leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.  
“I knew you would...things will change soon, my love and then I can give you the world,” He leaned against, pressing a quick kiss to her lips that she did not reciprocate. He left, humming that damned children’s song he loved so much, clearly pleased with himself. Penny sat on her bed, alone, but...as she looked down at the box, realized that she wasn’t quite entirely alone. She pulled the worn doll from the box and picked away any shreds of paper that clung to its moth eaten dress.  
“I think,” Penny mused softly as she smoothed and fussed with the doll in her hands, finally settling it so she could look into it’s cracked face. “I’m going to name you...Abby...”


End file.
